


Unexpectedly Bracing

by MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9449141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy/pseuds/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy
Summary: What surprised him the most from this was how comfortable and uncomfortable the scent made him. He could feel his pulse quicken and he didn’t really understand why.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhryneFisherismyRoleModel (mewme)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewme/gifts).



> A little something for the Birthday Girl. It's not one of my 'ships, but I do like testing Hugh's boundaries and giving him this one night felt right. I mean, it is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, after all.

There were voices approaching. He glanced around for something to toss on quickly. He didn’t want Miss Fisher and Dot Williams to see him without a shirt on, especially Dot. She was so lovely and proper. 

That wouldn’t do at all! 

He saw a freshly pressed shirt on a hanger nearby and quickly slipped into it. There was no time (and no way) the shirt was going to button but at least he wasn’t standing there in just his union suit, trousers and braces.    
He wasn’t anticipating the whiff of eucalyptus, Bay Rum and spiced aftershave to shock his senses. He realized too late that it must have been Inspector Robinson’s spare shirt that he had grabbed. 

What surprised him the most from this was how comfortable and uncomfortable the scent made him. He could feel his pulse quicken and he didn’t really understand why.

The Inspector’s cocked eyebrow was the only thing that let Hugh know he was aware that his spare shirt was currently draped over Hugh's broad shoulders. There was also a twitch of his lips that could be considered smile. Well, a smirk really.

Once Miss Fisher and Dot had made their way past him, continuing on to the cells Jack turned back towards Hugh.

“I won’t even ask what might have happened, Collins. Just, please make sure I have a shirt back on that hanger by Wednesday.”

“Yes, Sir. Absolutely, Sir. Thank you.”

As Hugh stammered he caught that quick upturn of the Inspector’s lips and felt a little twinge in his belly.

Later that night, Hugh lay in his bed, restless. the scent of Jack Robinson was lingering around him. Whether truly still in his nose, or locked in his memory he couldn’t say. But the scent conjured up an image of the Inspector and those upturned lips of his. Hugh was mildly horrified to discover how hard he had become thinking about them. 

He tried desperately to think of something else but the Eucalyptus in his own sheets only served to make the matter worse. Something about the crispness of that scent reminded him of how crystal blue the Inspector’s eyes were. 

A moan escaped him as his erection went from a tingle to an ache.

_ You know what you need to do, Hugh if you want to get any sleep tonight,  _ he told himself. 

With a deep breath he slid his hand under the sheets and closed his eyes. And there, in his mind’s eye he saw Jack Robinson the man, not Inspector Robinson his boss. 

He let himself be carried away by abstractions and sensations. It wasn’t long before his muscles strained, building towards sweet release. He bit his lip, savoring the knife edge of between longing and surrender. 

A breeze flitted through his open window, riffling through the shirt hanging close by. The essence of Bay Rum kissed his senses and sent him hurtling over the precipice. He did his best to muffle his guttural shout into his pillow. 

He savored the moment of feeling boneless, his body wracked with the tremors of aftershocks. And, as his trembles quieted, he let himself drift into a contented slumber, his head full of Eucalyptus, Bay Rum, and the soft murmurs of a cotton shirt fluttering in the night air.


End file.
